#fruits salad au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

m0ther-of-p3arl · 1 year

Text

i crack and out i pour

(robert aeor high au p3)

masterpost

FINALLY JIMMY'S HERE ODKSLFJLSDKJ i've been waiting so long for this ohhh my god welp this is the longest update yet :)

hope you like!!

Jimmy. So that’s his name- Joel had been wrong about that bit, at least. Scott can’t help but take note of his ruffled blonde hair, short and scruffy, tucked behind his ear with a pink, flower-patterned hair clip, his standard knee-length skirt showing thin, bird-like legs. He’s quite short, his height even less impressive than Scott’s five foot seven stature, and this is what causes Scott to come to a startling realization: Jimmy can be no one else but the person he’s just bumped into in the hallway; if only he’d known.

or, Scott meets the new boy! and they have a conversation :)

(4279 words)

Science is decidedly Scott’s favorite class, if only because he shares it with Owen and Shelby. To be fair, though, he does somewhat enjoy what they do, loves that he can just sit and talk to his two friends while doing some dumb experiment where everyone knows what the final reaction will be. Stepping into the familiar, vaulted classroom today, Scott scans the tables quickly, spotting Shubble and rushing over to claim the seat next to her, as Owen doesn’t seem to be here yet.

That’s another great thing about science: they’re allowed to choose their own seats, and they can choose new places to sit every day. Scott is almost always sitting with Shelby and Owen, his two friends in the class- the only time when he’s not is when Shubble wants to sit with Pearl and her group of crazy friends, or Owen with Lilith, his partner. But today, Shelby’s sat at the table they usually pick, nestled comfortably in the back corner: Scott’s favorite place.

“Hey, Scott!” Shelby smiles in greeting, eir legs swinging from her chair as eir eyes just barely peek over the table, her mushroom hat the only reason Scott was able to spot em in the first place.

“Hey, Shubble,” he says, “Do you want something to sit on?”

“Yes please,” Shelby exhales, “I tell you, it’s hard being this short.”

“For your species, you’re actually quite large,” Scott points out, pulling a few textbooks out of his school bag and plopping them down next to his friend. Technically, what he’s said about Shelby’s height is true. For a gnome, ey’re very tall, but for any other species? Not so much. She stands at a whopping three foot five, and the few times Scott’s seen her with her parents, ey’ve been towering over them by at least six inches. “You can sit on these, I don’t need them till later.”

Shelby’s dark brown hair is parted into two braids, which stick out from underneath her iconic hat, made of a bright red mushroom speckled with large white spots. Ey’re one of the only people who actually looks good in the school uniform, the navy blue and white tie complimenting her dark eyes quite nicely.

“Thank you, Scott.” Shubble says, propping up his textbooks on her seat and clambering atop them, crossing eir arms neatly on the table. She’s always polite, and that’s one of the reasons Scott loves em so much. They’ve been friends for almost three years, the final addition to their little group, that until Shelby came along, had been composed of only Scott, Joel, and Owen.

And speaking of Owen, here he is now, weaving quickly in between the tables before sneaking behind Scott and Shelby’s, plopping himself down on the chair next to the gorgon. “Ready to science?” he grins, stretching and grinning at the other two.

“I need to talk to Shelby for a sec, but after that, yeah, duh,” Scott smirks back at his best friend, though he knows Owen will be listening in the whole time.

“What about?” Shubble leans in close, as if Scott’s telling her some big secret. And he supposes he is to an extent, though really, it’s nothing huge.

“Xornoth, my father, a dream I had, just a ton of shit.” Scott leans down onto the table, just Shelby’s concerned face already easing him a little bit out of the breakdown mindset.

“Oh, no- not Xornoth. What was ze doing now?” Shubble has had eir own experiences with the tiefling, and Scott knows that her distaste for zir is just as great as his own, if not even more pronounced.

“...trying to touch my snakes,” Scott confesses, his insides twisting into an anxious knot just remembering zir calloused hands rubbing roughly against his head.

Owen and Shelby’s reactions are immediate and identical. They both swing their heads towards Scott, their faces shocked and seemingly disgusted, yelling, “What?!”

“Quiet down back there!” the teacher, Mx Leiverman, yells from the front of the class.

Scott’s friends ignore them, Owen still staring, horrified, at Scott, and Shelby jumping down from her chair to stand on the table directly in front of him, glaring down at him, eir eyes angry and scared.

Owen speaks first. “Scott, that’s… not an okay thing for zir to do.”

“No, it most certainly is not! Why didn’t you text me?” Shubble chimes in, waving her arms in the air. “I could have helped! You could have had a breakdown! Honestly, I’m surprised you’re not completely catatonic right now- I know how much you hate unwanted touch, and from Xornoth? That’s, like, twelve times worse!”

“I didn’t want to bother you guys,” Scott reasons. He should have known they’d react like this, should have known they’d take it as such a huge deal. “It’s not really all that bad. I’m fine.” He’s not.

“I don’t believe that for even a second.” Shelby’s continuing to yell at him, pointing accusingly at his head. “If something like that ever happens to you again, I want you to tell me right away. Understood? That is disgusting.” Scott’s disgusting. “I can’t believe anyone would ever do anything like that- but if anyone was going to, it would be Xornoth, wouldn’t it-”

“Shelby, please quiet down!” Mx Leiverman sounds annoyed now, and Scott gestures to Shelby for em to climb back into eir seat. She shakes her head defiantly, anger and worry bubbling up behind eir eyes.

“Jesus, Shubble, it’s really not that big of a deal.” Scott’s struggling to keep acting this nonchalant, doesn’t really know why he’s keeping up the charade, really, but he doesn’t want to worry his friends. Even though Shelby’s the therapist of the group, and he’s been planning to tell her all this since it happened, Scott can’t seem to allow himself to open up. Shubble really seems to care, and he can see her blowing up even further, opening eir mouth, no doubt to argue.

“Yes it is,” Owen says so quietly, it’s almost a whisper, “That’s a legitimate legal offense. You could probably sue Xornoth for that, and I mean this genuinely.” He enunciates the last word, each syllable coming out crisp and clear.

“But I’m not going to, because it’s no big deal!” Scott’s getting frustrated now. He should have known they’d take it like this, should have known they’d get this angry. Well… no, that’s not completely true. He should have expected Shubble to act like this. Owen? Not so much. He’s just full of surprises this morning, it seems.

“Well, if you don’t want to talk about it or press charges, we aren’t going to force you,” Owen sighs. “Right, Shelby?” He glares at her, clearly signaling to em to drop it. Owen’s known Scott long enough now to know when he won’t crack, and even if he’s certain that Owen agrees wholeheartedly with Shelby, he at least knows when to let sleeping dogs lie.

“...Sure.” Ey seems slightly embarrassed, and she climbs off the table, returning to eir chair. “But Scott, if you ever change your mind about this, tell me. If you ever want to bring this to the attention of school authority, please let me know.”

“Yep, absolutely,” Scott mutters, more to ease the gnome’s worry than to actually agree. He knows he won’t, if only because it’ll make him even easier to pick on than he is now, but he also knows how it’d be such a sign of weakness, how disappointed his father would be, because Scott’s so horrendous already, he doesn’t need to add coward to the long list of things wrong with him.

“Good.” Shelby’s relieved; he can tell by the way eir shoulders relax, the way her eyes lose the intense ferocity they had harbored not seconds ago.

Owen catches Scott’s eye, nodding slightly. “Seriously, though.” Scott feels a sudden pang of affection for his friends, because though they’re being annoying as hell, he does need to hear this from time to time, hear that they care for him, hear that what he’s going through is real.

“Thanks, Shubble. Thanks, Owen.” He offers each of them a smile, sinking slightly at the edges but more genuine than any expression he’s made in a while.

Before Scott’s friends can respond with more than a rueful shake of the head and a small grin from Owen, Mx Leiverman is clapping from the front of the room, a loud, harsh sound that signals that they have an announcement to make.

“Attention, please! Hey! That means you, Pearl, listen up!” While Mx Leiverman is trying to get the attention of the class, Scott notices that there’s a person, leaning up against the wall behind the teacher’s desk, their arms crossed tightly across their chest, bright yellow wings peeking out from behind them.

It’s the new kid, it has to be, there’s no one else it could be. Grian’s a parrot, he has mostly red, patterned wings, and Bek’s an owl. They’re the only two avians in school, and even on the small off-chance that one of those two would be in this room for whatever reason, they look nothing like the one standing stiffly at the front of the class.

Shelby’s noticed him too, and ey peeks over at Scott, her eyes inquisitive. “Is that the kid Joel was talking about?”

“I guess so,” Scott whispers, being very careful that the new boy can’t hear them. “Owen, did you see those texts?”

“Yeah,” Owen mutters, looking everywhere but the avian stood in the corner, glancing back at him every few seconds. “Timmy, right?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Scott answers, before Shubble shoots them a “stop talking” look, and all three direct their attention to the front of the room, where the teacher has finally gotten the class under control.

“Alright, everyone,” Mx Leiverman calls out, exerting their voice so it carries across the whole room. “As many of you may know, this-” they gesture to the avian- “is our new student, Jimmy. Would you like to introduce yourself to the class, Jim?”

“Um. Hey, I’m Jimmy?” The statement comes out inquisitive, making it sound like the avian is questioning his own name. Mx Leiverman gestures for him to elaborate, and Scott can see Jimmy sinking into his wings as they twitch. He’s evidently trying very hard not to wrap them around himself.

When he doesn’t continue, their teacher takes it upon themself to prompt him into speaking. “And where did you move from, Jimmy?”

Jimmy’s eyes have gone wide, and he looks like he’s struggling not to curl into a ball on the floor. “I-I moved from the… from a city a couple miles south.” Scott furrows his brow. This had obviously not been what Jimmy was originally going to say, and he’s obviously distressed. Scott feels for the guy, hopes for his sake that Mx Leiverman stops asking questions. It’s obviously making him very uncomfortable, and Scott’s been in similar situations before. It’s never fun.

“...What was the city called?” Mx Leiverman asks, prodding for more information. Scott almost facepalms, because any idiot can see how much the avian’s struggling right now, how much he wishes he could get out of the spotlight.

“Um, it was called…Jimmyville?” The class is working hard to hide their snickers, especially Joey, sitting alone at a table near the front of the class.

“Uh huh. Sure. What’s it really called, Jimmy?” Mx Leiverman is not amused, their nails beginning to drum a simple rhythm on their opposite arm.

“Can I go sit down now?” Jimmy doesn’t look like he’ll be answering any more questions. He’s staring determinedly down at his feet, as if not looking at all the people in the room will make them go away, will make them stop looking at him. His feathers ruffle, shaking slightly before laying back down into a more subdued pattern.

He’s kind of cute.

In the way all avians are cute, of course.

“Sure,” Mx Leiverman sighs, rubbing their temples and scanning the room, their gaze glancing over all the tables before landing on Scott and his friends. “I think you’d fit right in at that table in the back, Jimmy.”

He grabs his textbooks and walks over, still staring daggers at the floor, his wings pressed close against his body, prickling up in something that Scott assumes is either anxiety or embarrassment- though given Jimmy’s interrogation, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was a combination of both.

Shelby smiles at the canary as he trips towards them and scoots himself into the seat between her and Scott. “Hi, Jimmy!”

“Hey,” Jimmy mutters, attempting to smile and failing utterly. Shubble seems to have a good idea of what’s up, though, and ey leaves him be, though not before offering half of her granola bar, which Jimmy accepts gratefully.

Over the course of the introduction to class, Mx Leiverman drones on and on about what they’re going to be doing today, what obvious experiment will be conducted. Scott opens and closes his mouth several times, trying to find sentences that he can use to speak to the avian.

But Jimmy’s head is still ducked close to the table, his wings hanging loosely off the back of the chair, and Scott can’t seem to come up with words that sound genuinely friendly, and not weird or awkward. It doesn’t help that every time he tries, his insides feel like they’ve just been dropped off the high end of a cliff.

What is happening?

Scott turns his head away from Jimmy, staring intensely at the instructions on the board, determined to look anywhere other than Owen, who’s flashing him looks. Scott does not need to feel more confused than he does right now, and he can feel a bout of self-hate beginning to push in, disgust at how he’s feeling.

He hasn’t even spoken a word to this short bird boy, and already he can’t control himself. All Scott wants to be is normal, to be a full gorgon, to have the right feelings, to be the way men are supposed to be.

Scott glances behind him, and is suddenly aware of a huge mass of bright yellow feathers extending from Jimmy’s back. He’s stretching; his wings spread out to their full extent, eyes closed and arms stuck into the air. He does a little shake and his wings retract, folding back into their unassuming shape.

“You have a really large wingspan for your height,” Scott notices, not realizing until too late that he’s spoken aloud.

“Oh, yeah, I guess so,” Jimmy answers, looking surprisedly at the gorgon.

Well, Scott can’t let the conversation drop now. Plus, he has questions. “I’ve never really known an avian before, do you mind if I ask you some questions? Oh, I’m Scott, by the way.” Scott supposes he should at least introduce himself if he’s going to be this kinda guy.

“Well, I’m not exactly the best person to ask about that kind of thing…” Jimmy rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, grey-blue eyes looking to the side.

“I don’t mind,” Scott says quickly, and perhaps a bit too earnestly. He can hear the excited edge in his voice, and worries that he’s startled the canary. But instead of seeming weirded out, Jimmy laughs, a melodious, bird-like noise, clear and high-pitched.

“Well, I suppose so, then- only if I can ask you about being a gorgon, though. Back where I’m from, I only knew one. Her name was Nellie and she was ke- she lived on the other side of the city. I didn’t know gorgons could be cyan, tell me about that?”

Scott can feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickling up, discomfort coursing through his veins. “Um…normally, we can’t? I’m a hybrid, though, my mother’s a siren.”

“Huh, that’s interesting. I didn’t know hybrids between species were even a thing.” Jimmy’s picking at his feathers as they talk, never quite looking Scott in the eye, which he appreciates. Eye contact is something Scott’s never been a fan of, as it reminds him of his father, and he’s very relieved that Jimmy doesn’t seem to particularly enjoy it either, making the conversation a lot more comfortable for the both of them.

“Yeah, some species can crossbreed, some can’t. Apparently, a siren and a gorgon are close enough genetically that it works out.” Scott shrugs, trying to be nonchalant when really he’s warding off a breakdown. “I mean, if they weren’t, I wouldn’t be here, would I.”

“I guess not,” Jimmy agrees. “So, wait- can you still turn people to stone?”

“No.” Scott doesn’t elaborate, the question has already sent off too many alarm bells in his head, stupid defective fake disgusting wrong-

Scott realizes that Owen’s back, turned away from him and Jimmy, tensed at the avian’s last question. He’s been eavesdropping- again- and he knows it’s a topic Scott’s sensitive about. He feels a sudden burst of affection for his best friend.

“Sorry-” Jimmy starts, clearly having picked up on Scott’s anxiety.

“It’s fine,” he reassures the avian, “It’s just… kind of personal, you know?” Jimmy nods vigorously, his hair clip starting to fall out. Scott has to resist the urge to reach over and tuck it back in.

Owen’s back relaxes, and Scott feels quite proud of the way he handled such a sensitive subject as well. “So, about being an avian- can you fly?” Now it’s Jimmy’s turn to look uncomfortable, and Scott knows he’s overstepped, though he doesn’t know how.

“...kind of,” Jimmy answers, his posture somehow more rigid than before. “I was a little late learning, though- I’m not the best at flying.”

“Huh. I’m a gorgon who can’t petrify, you’re an avian who has trouble flying. Looks like we’re both de-” Scott stops himself from saying defective, reminding himself that though it’s true for him, other people often get defensive or weirded out when he calls himself that. “I guess we’re both kind of in the same boat,” he corrects himself.

“Yeah,” Jimmy agrees, offering a small, quivering smile that causes a shiver to run down Scott’s spine. “Yeah, I guess we kind of are.”

The conversation kind of dwindles after that, Scott not really knowing what to say, but kind of feeling like there’s not much more that needs to be said, at least right now. Mx Leiverman has finally finished the instructions for what they’re doing in class today, and Scott realizes that he’s been so caught up in his conversation, and even after it was finished, just thinking about what was said and Jimmy and other things, but mostly Jimmy.

“Shelby, do you know what we’re doing for class?” he half-whispers, leaning behind the canary to get a clear view of the gnome.

“You need to listen better,” she hisses, throwing him a glare that he knows by now is fake.

“Fine, I’ll ask Owen, then,” Scott challenges. Shubble rolls eir eyes, barely concealing a smile.

“Ask me what? And why are we whispering?” Suddenly Owen is there, out of his seat, head leaning in between Scott and Shelby.

“Oh, hello- I was just wondering what we’re doing, I didn’t catch what Mx Leiverman said,” Scott explains to his best friend. They’re all still crowded around right behind Jimmy, and Scott imagines it must be quite awkward for him- surrounded by people who you don’t know, who aren’t talking to you or about you. Scott’s been in similar situations before and it’s not a particularly nice feeling, so he leans back into his seat, gesturing for Shubble and Owen to do the same.

“Jimmy, did you hear what Leiverman said?” Scott asks, turning to the avian.

“No, I was talking to you, remember?”

Of course he was! Scott feels quite silly, and mutters a half-agreement before feeling Owen tap him on the shoulder and gesture to the corner. Scott raises an eyebrow before following, reassuring Shelby that they’ll be back in a second.

“So, what do you think of Jimmy?” Owen always feints around the questions he really wants to ask, and never says anything without a reason. Scott can tell he’s up to something, but he also knows that Owen’s trying to get more information out of him first, and he’ll never find out what about until Owen wants him to.

“He’s fine, he seems like a nice kid? I don’t know, I’ve known him just as long as you have- cut to the chase, Owen, what are you on about now?”

“Whatever could you be talking about,” Owen smirks, picking lint off the dark red sweater he always seems to be wearing, even times like now when he’s supposed to be donned in only the school uniform.

“You know full well what I’m talking about, what do you want from me?” Scott’s quite fed up with Owen's little guessing games at this point, because though at times they can be quite endearing, other times, like this, they’re just really bothersome.

Owen widens his eyes innocently, barely hiding his trademark grin. “I couldn’t possibly know what you’re referring to, Scott Smajor.”

“Come on, Owen, give it up. Why are you asking me about Jimmy?” Scott swears he can see the avian’s ear feathers peak up at the mention of his name. Owen shushes him loudly, having obviously seen it too.

“Fine, but don’t get mad. You have a crush on him, don’t you.”

Scott’s eyes widen at the tiefling’s statement, and he shakes his head vigorously. “No, no, no, no. And even if I did, you know I’m not supposed to like guys, I just haven’t found the right girl yet- I can’t be gay, do you understand how disgusting that would make me? Even worse than I am now, even more of a horrific person-” He’s shaking, hyperventilating, almost, because he hates talking about this, he hates bringing it up, he hates when Owen brings it up, because it’s bad to even think about and Scott hates himself-

“Scott! Stop it with this shit. You’re just as gay as I am bi,” Owen glares at him, momentarily snapping him out of his bubble of anxiety. “Just because you’re in denial and live with an abusive family-” he doesn’t, and he’s not in denial- “does not mean you get the right to be homophobic or self-deprecating.”

“And plus,” Scott adds, ignoring Owen’s outburst because he can’t let himself believe he’s anything but the disgusting idiot he is, he just can’t, he doesn’t know who he’d be if he didn’t hate himself- “I’ve literally known this kid for five seconds. Even if I was gay, it’s not like I’m gonna suddenly fall in love with whatever random chap looks in my vague direction.”

“You’re changing the subject. Apologize.”

“Fine.” Scott rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry I don’t want to be even more revolting than I already am- I have it hard enough without having to think about… that.”

“That is not an apology. Being queer is not revolting. Do you think I’m revolting? What about Shelby? What about Jimmy, who’s pretty obviously gender non-conforming with his skirt and hair clip?” Owen gestures angrily towards their table, where Jimmy and Shubble seem to be getting on splendidly. “Do you think we’re revolting? ‘Cause I’ll remind you, the majority of your friends are not straight and/or cis.”

“I- no, I don’t think you’re revolting-” Scott’s on the defense now, backing up with his hands raised in surrender.

“Then what are you getting at?” Owen jabs him in the chest, hard, not the friendly pokes Scott’s used to, and he stumbles backwards, eyes wide. “Because you can’t really hate one queer person due to their gender or sexuality without hating all of us, even if that one queer person is yourself. Look, I get that you have a fucking hard time. I get it! But this does not give you the excuse to press your trauma on everyone else. Now properly apologize. Or else.”

Scott doesn’t know what to do, he can’t figure out how his own logic works, how he’s gross because he’s gay, but all his friends aren’t- his mind reels. But he does suppose he has to apologize. “...I’m sorry, Owen.” It’s almost too soft to hear, but Owen seems satisfied, folding Scott into an awkward hug for the second time that day.

“It’s okay,” Owen reassures. “That’s what I’m here for- to correct you when you say the dumbest shit imaginable. Now come on, let’s go do a science experiment.”

Owen walks back to the table, Scott trailing slowly behind him. He doesn’t think his friends are disgusting, he really doesn’t, so then why does he feel like he is? Because no matter how many times he tries to take what Owen says to heart, he can’t, he just can’t.

For a moment, just for a moment, Scott tries to let himself imagine what it would be like if he hadn’t grown up the way he had.

He thinks… he thinks it might have been nice.

52 notes · View notes